


Bide our Time

by firefly_quill



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fantasy AU, Light Angst, M/M, Magic AU, at least I think there will be a chapter 2, rating will change chapter 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23505043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefly_quill/pseuds/firefly_quill
Summary: When Jesse woke up alone for the first time in almost half a year, he’d actually been expecting it for weeks. A chill had begun to settle in the evening air almost a month ago, just days after they’d returned home to the forest from their travels. They had spent these evenings cuddled close, Hanzo entwining every limb he could around Jesse for warmth.It was always only a matter of time.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 34
Kudos: 144





	Bide our Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone,
> 
> This story was inspired by Orville Peck's new single "Summertime". In an interview, he had this to say about the song: "Ultimately this is a song about biding your time and staying hopeful—even if it means missing something or someone." I tried to run with that! 
> 
> This might make a bit more sense if you were to watch the music video on this song. It's gorgeous and I hope I did it justice, if only tangentially. I think what struck me most was the sentiment that our current hardships too, shall pass, and summer will arrive again. <3
> 
> If you had the time, I'd love to hear your thoughts. <3

When Jesse woke up alone for the first time in almost half a year, he’d actually been expecting it for weeks. A chill had begun to settle in the evening air almost a month ago, just days after they’d returned home to the forest from their travels. They had spent these evenings cuddled close, Hanzo entwining every limb he could around Jesse for warmth. 

It was always only a matter of time. 

Jesse sighed and stretched, already missing the weight of Hanzo’s body against his. No time to dawdle, though. There was work to be done. Jesse prepared himself a quick breakfast, and began to put the kettle on for Hanzo’s tea before remembering. He made the tea anyway for himself. It soothed him and didn’t taste as bad as he insisted it did, although he’d never admit it to Hanzo (he was pretty sure Hanzo knew already anyway). 

When he was done, he brought a small wheelbarrow to the shed that he dreaded opening every year. He retrieved a bag of potting soil, gardening tools and as many flowerpots as the cart could carry, and then proceeded to pot as much of their garden as he possibly could. He snipped a few branches from their sakura and plum trees—their leaves were already starting to take a different colour—and potted these as well. By the time the day was done, the blooms lined every last ledge and flat surface of their small cottage. Jesse took in a large breath to hold the bittersweet fragrance of the flowers. 

“Where’s the time gone, darlin’?” He murmured to the still air. One of the vines unfurled at his feet, reaching to entwine itself around his ankle. Jesse chuckled. “I know, I know.” 

The temperature continued to drop day by day. Jesse spent most of his time chopping wood for winter, gathering supplies from the store in the nearby town and practicing Light for when it would become a necessity. He always left time each day to simply walk through the forest, just so he could feel it breathe around him. Bushes would reach out to hold his hand, and trees would bow down to offer him kisses. Every once in a while, a leaf would fall to the ground and Jesse felt his heart fall with it. Whenever he became lost in his own thoughts, one of the roots would lift from the ground and poke him. He would chuckle, swat at it, and continue to meander. At night, he would read out loud and the flowers would lean forward with interest. 

It got colder still and Jesse began to light fires to keep the cottage as warm as he could. Daylight lost its intensity, and began to end earlier with each passing day. 

Come mid-October, Jesse was finally able to reveal the surprise he had been keeping for months. At twilight, he put their favourite song on the phonograph and proudly called for attention. With a few words and a wave of his hand, he conjured a set of Dancing Lights. The plants swayed with excitement at this new development. 

“Thought you’d like it,” Jesse hummed. “I ain’t done yet though, hold up.” 

With another wave of his hand, the lights began to move with the music. They doubled, tripled in number, as they rose upward, creating a starry expanse against the dimming daylight. The vines reached upward as far as though could in awe. Jesse lowered a few lights so that they were just in reach, and they caressed the leaves with their glow. 

It was difficult to keep the display moving for long, and Jesse eventually had to revert to his usual light spell. The flowers beamed at him, the closest plants turning their faces towards him and reaching tall. Jesse laughed and lean downwards so that a sasanqua could reach up to give him a kiss. 

“Why Hanzo, you’re gonna make me blush,” Jesse teased, reaching to pet the camilla’s bright pink petals. 

Autumn turned to winter, and Jesse’s spirits began to wane. Despite his best efforts, some of the plants were beginning to wither and brown. They moved less now, and often only when Jesse looked especially sad. Jesse would bury the ones that died out in the garden, and could not shake the feeling that each burial was a personal failure. 

On the longest night of the year, Jesse indulged in his yearly tradition of drinking until he passed out. The wisteria bonsai that had been losing its lavender flowers trembled and stretched with great effort towards the sofa. Even in his state, Jesse caught the movement from the corner of his eye. Gasping, he took the pot gently with both hands, and hugged it close to his chest, sobbing into its leaves. The vines curled upward to weave through his hair.

“I’m sorry, sweetpea, I’m sorry,” Jesse mumbled. “I know this is the worst it’s gonna be but…I miss you.”

The bonsai leaned into his embrace. They sat together until the late winter dawn finally peaked weakly through the trees. 

\--- 

Jesse woke one morning, and the air felt damp and green. He took a deep breath and rolled over to find buds on the plum tree branch. Scrambling to stand, his legs tangled in his blankets and he fell out of bed. The hydrangea vines ran quickly along the floor to meet him. They wrapped firmly around his arms and torso. Jesse laughed, and ran his fingers over the leaves. “Come on now, I got work to do.” 

McCree had arrived at Hanzo’s forest around this time several years ago, trying to escape bounty hunters that were hot on his trail. He was a coyote out of his element: the forest had felt foreign and strange. With one foolish misstep, and all of a sudden, the three men were just a shot away. 

Just as Jesse was bracing himself for a brawl, a set of vines had wrapped swiftly around his legs and body, pulling him into the hollow of a large tree. Before he could protest, those same vines wrapped firmly around his mouth. He watched as the hunters walked past, dumbfounded. Several hours later, the vines relaxed, presumably after the other men had left the forest grounds. Jesse dusted himself off and called out his thanks up into the empty air, and a rustle of leaves was his only answer. 

Jesse decided that it would be safest to set up camp in the forest until the bounty hunters left the area. A path cleared while he walked along it, leading him to a patch of berries. He admired a series of wildflowers to a stream full of fish. Within the week, the forest led him to Hanzo’s small cottage—cold, dusty and empty. 

Jesse wasn’t one to question his luck, so he took it upon himself to clean and repair the place. Within a couple of weeks, the cottage was spotless. Jesse had even weeded the garden and planted the seeds he had found sitting beside a wisteria bonsai one morning. He awoke one day to the smell of coffee and breakfast. Hanzo greeted him in person for the first time. He thanked Jesse for caring for his cottage, and invited him to stay. Jesse never left. 

Hanzo finally admitted several weeks into their quick-blooming relationship his predicament. Like the forest itself, his energy waxed and waned with the seasons. He was only able to maintain his human form when the forest itself was flourishing. Contrary to the anxiety in Hanzo’s voice, Jesse found all the more reason to stay. He offered to take care of Hanzo’s cottage the months Hanzo was unable to. By the second year, he was just staying because neither of them would have it any other way. 

From then on, Jesse’s own life followed the rhythm of the seasons, just like Hanzo’s. 

Jesse quickly prepared his breakfast, and took heart that it would be the last one he would have to eat alone for a very long time. He spent the day once again cleaning up the cottage and weeding the garden. He moved some of the withered plants (some of which were already showing signs of new life) back outdoors if he thought that they could handle it. It didn’t help that vines kept getting in his way, lovingly working their way up Jesse’s legs to his thighs, pulling at his wrists. 

“Stop that!” Jesse scolded, slapping one of them away with affection. It responded by whipping him swiftly on the ass. Jesse yelped. 

“Frisky today, are we?” McCree chuckled, rubbing his backside. The vines pet at him more gently, as though in apology. “Just a lil’ while longer.” 

That evening, despite his exhaustion, he managed to bake Hanzo’s favourite cake so that they could have it for breakfast, as was tradition. The plants tried to pull him back half-heartedly, and formed a pointed path towards the bed. 

“It won’t take long,” Jesse promised. “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

The plants relented, and instead watched him with interest as he mixed the ingredients.

“Can you taste this?” Jesse wondered. He put a small dollop of batter on one of the wisteria branches. The bonsai shook its leaves as though offended. “Guess not,” Jesse laughed, carefully cleaning the goop away. “Soon enough though.”

Jesse ran himself a nice bath while the cake is in the oven, and finished the cake before stripping down and settling into the hot water. The plants on the window ledge dipped down, reaching low, but straighten immediately once feeling the temperature. 

“Oops. Sorry, sweetpea,” Jesse apologized. “Muscles are a bit sore, so the water’s hot.” 

He lifted his arm so that it’s within reach, and the hydrangea tips stretched to kiss at it. 

Jesse retired to bed, warmth still radiating off him from his long bath, and the plants sitting on the night tables stretched their vines and branches to wrap him in a cozy embrace. 

The branches were still wrapped securely around Jesse’s torso when he awoke to the soft spring sun filtering through his window. They loosened as he stretched, reaching up instead to curl around his arms. 

“Good morning to you too,” Jesse hummed. He inhaled deeply, his heart stuttering as he picked up the scent of fresh coffee, just like the very first time. He tried his best to saunter calmly into the kitchen, but instead of Hanzo, he found the coffee in a thermos, and a Hanzo-sized piece missing from his cake. Chuckling fondly, Jesse collected the coffee and a picnic basket of what he imagined was breakfast. He cut two more pieces of cake as well before setting out to look for Hanzo.

The early morning sun was shining, warming the crisp air just enough to be comfortable. Outside, every available plant seemed to be pointing, leaning, pulling Jesse towards their favourite meadow. Jesse arrived to find Hanzo sitting in a sunbeam filtered through the trees on a rise of the hill, eyes closed, smiling up at the sun. It took Jesse’s breath away. 

“Photosynthesizin’?” He teased on approach. 

Hanzo snorted. “That is never funny.” 

“But you always laugh,” Jesse teased, kneeling behind Hanzo to wrap both arms around his shoulders. 

“That barely counts,” Hanzo protested, leaning into the embrace anyway and allowing his head to fall back onto Jesse’s shoulder. He tilted his head upward and Jesse gave him the first of many kisses that day. 

“Welcome home.”


End file.
